How to Save a Life
by housecrazee
Summary: she is always there to pull him up when he's drowning, but will he ever let her, or will she always be forced to stand back and watch? not the greatest summary,Huddy, hurtcomfort. first chapter based on a song by the Fray
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is a songfic based on the song How to Save a Life by the fray, takes place after skin deep. This will be a one-shot for now but could develop into more later.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or the song that I got this idea from.**

**Hope you enjoy, let me know what you think.**

He stood gazing out the window and watched as the rain fell steadily outside. The skies were a dark steely grey, which matched his mood. He was momentarily at peace watching the rain wash away all of the dust and dirt from the outside world, making it clean and beautiful once again. Sometimes he wished the rain could wash away his own problems, and his pain, and make him whole again just as it renewed the earth. Lost in his thoughts he was unaware that she was standing at his office door watching him, silently observing as he hung his head and gripped his right thigh with his hand. He had finished solving a particularly difficult case earlier in the day and by now the high he had gained from solving the puzzle was wearing off and his pills were doing little to dull the roar of pain emanating from his thigh. He had come to her earlier that day requesting a morphine injection, but she had given him a placebo instead. She recalled the hurt look that had come over his face when she had informed him that he had been given a placebo. What she hadn't realized was that House had lied to her. He had not wanted her to know how bad the pain was so he had lead her to believe that the injection had worked for a while when in fact it had only worked for about half an hour, which he accounted to his mind wanting it to work. So he had limped dejectedly out of her office and gone back to his own, feeling betrayed. But Cuddy had been concerned and had come to see how if he was alright, watching him now, seeing that he was obviously in pain she knew that it was time she talked to him, so she slowly entered the office.

_Step one you say we need to talk_

"How's your patient doing?" she asked softly

He turned, startled by her sudden appearance and quickly tried to disguise the pain that showed through his eyes. She caught a small glimpse of it, however, before he was able to push it away and it only added to her concern for him.

"She's doing good," he said grabbing his jacket and putting it on, "Should be able to go home in a few days. I'm assuming your not here because you find me irresistible, so what do you want?"

She noticed that his movements were stiff and pained. "House, we need to talk."

"No you need to talk, I need to go home." He picked up his cane and began to move around his desk to leave.

"Sit down, House, it's just a talk," she said more firmly, stepping in front of him to block his passage. He looked at her for a few moments, his deep blue eyes starring into hers. He was about to retort with one of his sarcastic remarks but stopped himself when he saw the pleading, almost desperate look etched on her features. So he gave a slow nod and slowly sank back into his chair.

"Fine then, let's talk." He stared up at her with the closest look of polite attentiveness that she had ever seen from him.

"How many pills have you taken today?"

"Wow you sure don't waste time with small talk; I thought your opinion was that this was all in my head? So why do you care what I do to relieve my imaginary pain?"

"Weather it's in your head or not, I don't want to see you over dose on pills. And believe it or not I don't get any pleasure from seeing you in constant agony; I just want to help you."

"Yeah well I don't need your help, it was your help in the first place that got me into this mess. Besides it's kind of hard to accept help from someone who doesn't believe you have a problem in the first place."

Cuddy was taken back by his comment. She had always secretly blamed herself for what had happened with his leg, she had gone over it again and again in the past few years wondering if there was anything she could have done differently, and she knew that he placed some of the blame on her although he had never said anything about it. But for him to think she didn't believe he had a pain problem was a bit of a shock to her. She was probably the only one who truly believed that most of his pain was physical; she had been there after all. And she had tried to be there for him in the past few years, giving him a job to allow him to move on with his life and helping him with his pain. But most importantly she had been there for him when he didn't know she was there, watching from the background and protecting him. She had observed how he dealt with his pain and had cleaned up innumerable legal messes that seemed to follow him like a shadow. So she was slightly hurt at the thought that he did not trust her enough to accept her assistance. She looked back at him with a look of disappointment and sadness in her eyes.

"I'm sorry you feel that way House. But while I do think some of your pain is psychological I also know that there is a physical component to it, and I've always kept an eye on you. I know that your pain has been increasing lately, I just don't want you to think that there's no where to turn for help. I want to be here for you."

"Oh how would you know weather my pain is worse or not? The only time you have anything to do with me is when you're trying to get me to work in the clinic, or when you're preventing me from doing my job. Besides I have my pills, they help with my pain and they don't judge me."

Cuddy began to feel the anger well up inside her, here she was offering her help and telling him that she believed him and she was pushing her away, the way he pushed all help away. She decided it was time to stop protecting him and let him know how she felt, how she hated being continuously pushed away.

_Lay down a list of what is wrong_

_The things you told him all along _

_And pray to god he hears you._

"Come on, House, your being childish. This is just like you, things get bad and you can't deal with them so you shut out the world. You push away everyone who tries to help you, and you can't blame that on the pain, that's you being miserable plain and simple." She paused for a moment then threw her hands up and let her anger at his attitude pore through her next words. "You know what? You're right I can't know how much your pain increases but I'll tell you what I do know. You can't control the pain with the pills alone, and if you continue to push everyone away you will end up alone. I'm here right now for you, Wilson's here for you, and we want to help you to have a better quality of life but in order for us to do that you need to trust that we want to help. Once you push us away who will you have left House?"

She saw the anger flare in his deep blue eyes now and he stood slamming his hand down hard on his desk, making her jump.

"Maybe I don't need anyone; maybe I want to be alone. You can't force your help on someone who doesn't want it," He yelled at her, "all of you ignore me when I come to you for help, you tell me the pain is all in my head. Then when I try to deal with it on my own you suddenly decide it's time to pity me and interfere with my personal life!"

He gripped at his thigh again grimacing as a ripple of pain went through the damaged muscle and sat down again. It took all of her control to stop herself from going to him

It was then that she realized that the person she had known throughout college and before the infarction was gone. Her friend was gone; he had been replaced with this miserable sarcastic and bitter person who was afraid to trust anyone.

_Where did I go wrong I lost a friend_

_Somewhere along in the bitterness_

So she lowered her voice and spoke to him in a soft factual tone.

"Look House, I told you I believe you, and if you don't want my help, then no I can't force it on you. But you can't sit there and tell me you don't have a pain problem while when you can barely stand because of it. So I'll tell you what, if you don't want my help fine. I won't give you any, you can continue on until you self destruct for all I care. But if you decide you actually want to be a reasonable human being, you know where to find me."

_He will do one of two things_

_He will admit to everything_

_Or he'll say he's just not the same_

_And you'll begin to wonder why you came_

He looked up at her, annoyed that she was seeing him this vulnerable, and she stood there patiently awaiting his reply. After a few moments of silence she shook her head at him in disappointment and slowly turned to exit the office. He hesitated, not wanting to open up to her, not wanting her to see how vulnerable he was. But at the same time he desperately wanted to have some one to turn to, someone he could trust.

"Cuddy, I'm not the same person I was." He said in softer tones so that she had to turn around to get conformation that she had actually heard him.

"I can't trust people the way I used to," he continued, "trust left me missing half of my thigh. I do want your help, but I can't imagine what you could do that I haven't already tried."

She walked back over to his desk and gently placed her hand on his shoulder, compassion flowing through her next words.

"I'm not sure what the answer is either House, but I'm willing to try. I know it's hard for you but you can trust me. I've gone over things a hundred times in my head, and if I'd have know how things would have turned out," she paused looking into his eyes once again, looking for his understanding, "well, I don't know that I would have done things the same. I'd like to say I would have tried to find a better solution. But you can't change the past, so hopefully you'll let me help you make the present a little more bearable."

He nodded slowly. "Would you mind giving me a ride home? I didn't bring my bike today. Probably for the best, wouldn't be able to handle it properly anyways."

"Alright, I'll take you home and make sure you're comfortable. Then we can talk about other pain management options tomorrow ok?"

He nodded and stood shakily, it seemed that his earlier angry outburst had cost him more energy than he had. She walked close to him, ready to assist if he needed it but not interfering until he asked. Once he had got settled in the passenger seat he closed his eyes and rubbed his hand over the damaged muscle the whole way to his apartment.

"Is it that bad?" Cuddy asked stopping on the street in front of his door. He nodded in response and slowly climbed out of her car. He stood there waiting for her to come around and when she did he hesitantly met her gaze.

"I don't know if I can make it," he said softly.

So she went to his left side and let him lean against her as she helped him into his apartment.

"Bed or couch?" she asked when they had entered the apartment.

"Couch is closer."

After she helped him get settled she sat on the coffee table and watched him for a few minuets as he continued to grimace in pain. She let a few more moments pass until she was unable to watch him anymore, then she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a syringe filled with morphine, it was the one he had asked for earlier. She had brought it with her in case he needed it, hoping of course that she wouldn't.

"What's that?" He asked, eyeing the syringe suspiciously.

"Morphine, the dose you asked me for earlier. I told you I want to help."

"Ok," he said and allowed her to administer it. Then he waited until he felt the drug course through his body and relaxed, he was asleep within minuets. Cuddy got up to leave but then changed her mind, she had left him last time he needed help, and she didn't want to repeat the same mistake. She wanted to be here incase he needed her, which she would have done last time had she known how things would have turned out. So she settled herself on the chair and watched him until she fell asleep.

_And I would have stayed up with you all night_

_Had I known How to Save a Life._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:First just let me say thanks to those of you who reviewed, I greatly appreciated it. I've had a bad case of writers block with my other story so I have decided to continue with this one for now, I don't really know where I want to go with this so I'll just wing it. Anyways, I wrote this part late at night so I'm not sure if it will make much sense, I hope it does. Anyways, if it does make sense I hope you enjoy!**

House woke sometime in the middle of the night, the morphine had worn off and the pain was starting to burn through his leg again. Reaching out he located the bottle of vicodin that Cuddy had conveniently left there for him. He grabbed it and quickly swallowed a few pills, hoping they would at least take the edge off. While he waited for the pills to work he let his mind wander back to his talk with Cuddy earlier that afternoon. He was unsure as to what would happen now, and uncertain about weather he should open up and allow himself to place his trust in Cuddy. It had been a long time since he had allowed himself to trust in the good will of others. She had appeared to show genuine concern for him, but she had tried to trick him by giving him the placebo earlier that day, and before she had talked to him this evening she had appeared to agree with Wilson that his pain was a psychological problem as much as a physical one. However, as much as he hated to admit it to anyone it was sometimes hard to go through this alone. He had tried hard to make himself completely independent over the last few years. Convincing himself and others that he didn't need any help, he could take care of himself. So he had shielded his feelings behind intelligence and sarcasm, and he had even started to believe it himself, for the most part, and had begun to push away anyone who had tried to offer their assistance. At first he had pushed away his family, then Stacy, and finally Wilson and Cuddy. Every time he had allowed his defenses to break down enough to go to either Cuddy or Wilson for help, they had thrown it back in his face. Saying that his pain was a psychological problem and not legitimate, and as he had told Cuddy earlier, it was hard to place his trust in someone who didn't believe he had a problem. But things were getting worse now, and he'd tried almost everything he could think of to dull the constant pain, but no matter what he tried the pain still clung to him, following him like a shadow. It was starting to wear him down, more and more frequently over the last few months the pain had reached near intolerable levels. Most of the time he had been able to successfully hide his problems from his team and Wilson, but he was finding it increasingly difficult to slip past Wilson's radar. He often felt he had no one to turn to; Wilson was always trying to get him to deal with his feelings and seemed reluctant to accept his problems as physical ones. And Cuddy seemed only concerned that he do his clinic duty and limit the amount of legal messes she had to clean up. He was reluctant to accept her help, but he was beginning to get tired of trying to hide it all the time, to pretend like everything was fine when it wasn't. Besides, if he did nothing there would soon coma a day when he could no longer conceal his pain from them, and he did not want that day to ever come.

By now the pills had kicked in, the pain reduced to a dull roar, and House was able to contemplate moving into his bedroom where he might be more comfortable. He had reluctantly decided he would go and talk to Cuddy tomorrow about other methods of pain management. He didn't know what she would suggest, but if she was willing to help he was ready to accept it with little resistance. As House began to raise himself up off the couch he noticed that Cuddy was still there, asleep on the recliner on the other side of the living room. He was surprised that she was still there, she had obviously decided to stay and make sure he would be alright. He grabbed a blanket off the end of the couch and carried it over to her, gently placing it over her sleeping form. When he was sure she would be comfortable until morning he limped off to his bedroom, where he spent the remainder of the night staring at his ceiling and trying without much success to regain sleep.

The next morning Cuddy slowly opened her eyes, she was slightly disoriented and it took her a few moments to realize that she was in House's apartment. Remembering she quickly looked over to the couch, where House should have been, to find it empty. Concerned she quickly threw off the blanket that was covering her and began searching the apartment to see where he was, he had been in a lot of pain last night and she didn't quite trust him not to do something stupid. Peeking into his bedroom she found him lying on the bed, sleeping restlessly. Knowing that he had woken in the night and had probably just gotten back to sleep she decided not to disturb him yet, so she went to the kitchen to make breakfast. Cuddy quickly discovered, however, that unless she wanted a breakfast that consisted of peanut butter, slightly stale bread and out of date milk she would have to go out. So checking once more that House was ok she quickly slipped out and went down to the bakery down the street and bought some food for the two of them. When she returned she put House's breakfast on a plate and carried it into his bedroom. She paused at the edge of his bed, not wanting to wake him up, but knowing she had to. She hoped that she had got through to him last night, and she desperately hoped that he would allow her to help him. He had been resorting to more and more drastic measures do deal with his pain and she feared that the next time he might take those measures too far. Cuddy knew that he didn't know she had been watching him that closely, he believed that he was hiding his pain from her. But she hoped she had allowed him to see that he was standing on the edge of a cliff, and hoped that he would take her outstretched hand. Cuddy was beginning to tire of continually offering that helping hand out to him. This would be the last time, from now on if he wanted her help he would have to ask for it, she was tired of having her generosity shoved back at her. Cuddy let out a sigh and gently placed her had on his shoulder.

"House, wake up," she said as she softly shook him awake.

After some grumbling he rolled over to and propped himself up on one elbow.

"I brought you breakfast," she said passing him the plate, "of course I had to go and buy it because it seems you've learned to live off of peanut butter."

"That's what I want you to think, what time is it?"

"Almost nine. I have to get back to the hospital, and so do you. If you want I'll wait 'till you get ready and you can get a ride in with me."

House was about to tell her that he would be fine, but then changed his mind. He knew that this was her way of saying she wanted to keep an eye on him. Besides if he cooperated with her maybe he could get out of doing any actual work today. He badly wanted to shut himself up in his office, alone with his music and game boy. His thigh was quickly getting past the point of annoyingly sore already and the day hadn't even started.

"I don't need babysitting you know, but since you're already here you could give me a ride in."

"Alright, I'll wait for you to get ready." She said accepting that that was the closest to a polite answer she would probably get from him this morning. She rose and began to leave the room, but looking back noticed that he had begun to slowly massage his thigh. "Do you want to talk about that now or later?" she asked, nodding towards the leg.

"Later, too early in the morning for philosophical discussions. Besides, I don't know if you've noticed but there happens to be a girl in my bedroom. Very distracting."

Cuddy allowed a smile to form; at least he was feeling good enough this morning to throw some sarcastic remarks out. She left and waited on the couch for him, watching him walk towards her as he came down the hallway and noticing that while he wasn't as stiff as yesterday his steps were still small and his pace controlled. She allowed him to get into her car unassisted, standing on the sidewalk ready to offer assistance if he asked. He managed to get in with little difficulty so she walked around to the drivers' side and got in. They drove towards the hospital, both of them remaining in companionable silence during the trip. When they arrived, Cuddy headed off towards her office and House went straight to his, trying very carefully to avoid running into Wilson. Reaching his office he found that his team had found no new cases they deemed worthy of his attention, so he promptly sent Foreman and chase to do his clinic hours and told Cameron to answer his mail. He then locked himself in his office, closing the blinds and putting his I-pod on, successfully avoiding Cameron's curiosity and questions. Half way through the day he got the first page from Cuddy saying that she wanted to see him immediately. He decided that he didn't want to go through the effort of getting up and walking down to her office, his leg was steadily throbbing by now, so he ignored the page. The first one was followed by four more, and then Wilson walked around the corner.

"House, don't you have your pager with you? Cuddy has been trying to reach you all afternoon."

"And I have been successfully trying to ignore her, I'm assuming that's the reason she sent you over here."

"Yes, well I'm slightly harder to ignore than a pager, and you can't shut me off. So why don't you just go down there and see her, because I have better things to do than stand here annoying you all day."

"To early to go down there, I might have to work."

"House!" said Wilson glaring at him angrily.

"Fine, I'll go are you happy now?" He said grabbing his cane and lifting his leg off the top of the desk, setting it gently on the floor. "I don't know why you people just can't leave me alone. I want your help; you won't give it to me. I want you to leave me alone, and then you suddenly decide I need to be helped. And people say I'm complicated." House fumed, angrily shuffling out of his office, knowing that he had to get this over with eventually if he wanted to get the vultures off his tail so he could deal with his pain in peace. He walked into Cuddy's office unannounced, as usual, and found cuddy in the middle of a phone call. So he made himself comfortable on her couch and loudly tapped his cane on the floor while she finished, which earned him an annoyed glare from Cuddy.

"So are you ready to talk?" Cuddy asked, hanging up the phone.

"Oh that's all you wanted, no afternoon delight? Well then in that case, I'll be going." He said rising from the couch.

"House, I'm serious. If you don't want to talk that's fine. But like I said last night, I'm getting tired of giving you all of these chances and one day my generosity is going to run out. I'm not going to offer my help again. So you either want it or you don't."

He stopped five paces from the door and let out a frustrated sigh.

"Fine then, let's talk."

**Well that's all for now, if you liked it let me know. If you didn't let me know. Next chapter will be what Cuddy proposes to do to help House and if he accepts it or not. **


	3. Chapter 3

House sat on the couch, starring at Cuddy, Cuddy sat at her desk, starring at House.

Both were waiting for the other to speak first, and it was house that broke the silence.

"I thought you wanted to talk, not have a starring contest? Entertaining I'll admit but I have better things to do with my time."

"I do want to talk, but I'm still not convinced you want to."

House looked down at the floor, trying to avoid Cuddy's gaze while he tried to gather his thoughts. Did he want to talk to her? Did he want to open himself up to her scrutiny and allow her to see all of his weaknesses? Did he even want her help? He didn't really know. He didn't know if he was capable of allowing her to help, but he had reached the conclusion that he did need help. He didn't enjoy being in agonizing pain every day, and if nothing else was accomplished at least she might be able to help him get the pain level back to tolerable. Besides, if he knew if he wanted her help he would have to let her know how he really felt, it was an unspoken requirement. So he raised his head and fixed his gaze on Cuddy's. She could see the change in his radiant blue eyes immediately. The look of fierce intelligence that was normally there had was gone, and in its place Cuddy could see that he was going to let her in, pain and need shone through a burned a hole into her heart.

"This is hard for me," he said softly, "I haven't let anyone in for so long, and I don't know if I can anymore."

"It's ok, House, I'm here for you." Cuddy replied. And she would be here for him; she would sit there patiently all day if that's how long it took.

He nodded slowly, and then let out a sigh, "Ok let's give this a try. You want the truth." It was a statement, not a question, so Cuddy remained silent and house fixed his gaze at a spot on the floor. "Over the last three weeks the pain has been getting really bad. And before you say it yes I will admit that some of it is about Stacy leaving again, but not all of it. It was getting bad before she left…" his voice trailed off for a moment as he seemed to be recalling something. Then he looked at Cuddy, and she could see the wall come up behind his eyes again. "I can't do this. I know what you want; you want me off the pills. Well I can't, I need them."

Damn and she thought he was actually going to open up to her, he had started off good. But Cuddy knew she couldn't force him to reveal his feelings, she could encourage him but in the end it had to be his decision.

"House I know this is hard for you, but if you want me to help you, I have to know what's going on with you. And yes I would like you to get off the pills, but I know that in order for you to do that we need to find another way of managing your pain. So like I said, I know this is hard for you, but you need to talk to me."

"I told you, the pains been getting worse, so I've been taking more pills. But they're not really helping anymore. They just barely take the edge off, so I take more. There are you happy now, I'm an addict. I've admitted it, and no I don't want your sympathy." House said angrily.

_Why did everything always have to be a fight with him_, thought Cuddy "No, I'm not happy. Do you think I want you to be addicted? I want to help you House." She moved from behind the desk and sat in a chair opposite him, "You said the pain was getting bad before Stacy left, how bad?"

He thumped his cane on the floor in frustration, and for a moment Cuddy thought he might not answer her. He kept his head turned, apparently looking out the window.

"It was pretty bad," he said after a while, "Most days I hid it by taking lots of pills and staying in my office. If I wasn't moving around a lot I could hide it. I managed to stay of Wilson's caring radar, so I guess I did a pretty good job. Then it got really bad, to the point where I didn't care if anyone knew anymore. That's when I decided to test Dr. Weber's drug, Wilson was partially right about that I did need a distraction. But I don't think he really understood why. And it's just gotten worse from there, I can't control it anymore."

House stopped and hung his head; he seemed embarrassed that he had told Cuddy all of this. And he nervously waited for her to respond. She took a few moments to absorb what he had told her.

"You didn't hide it that well House. Wilson came to me about three weeks ago; he said he'd noticed that you seemed to be in more pain than usual. He was concerned because at that time Stacy was still here and you were staring to get closer to her. But he didn't think that it was that bad that he needed to approach you about it. I noticed it too. But neither one of us suspected it was that bad. You're so good at shielding yourself from the world that even Wilson and I can't properly read you anymore." She paused watching him for a reaction, but he gave her none so she continued. "I suppose the next step is to find another alternative for the Vicodin. There are some other drugs we could try that might work…"

"No," House cut her off, "We've tried those already, they didn't work then they won't work now. Besides I've tried them all again over the years, in different combinations, they just don't work. And before you ask, no I am not going to tell you how I got a hold of the drugs. You'd be scandalized, and a good magician never reveals his secrets."

"Well then what do you suggest? I highly doubt I can convince you to go see one of the hospital councilors, and if you've tried all the other drugs what options are left?"

He looked at her, trying to decide weather he should tell her about the new treatment he had been researching over the last few weeks. Would she go for it? There was only one way to find out so he reluctantly told her.

"There's one thing I haven't tried, it's a new treatment still in the research phase."

"Ok, well what is it?"

"Ketamine." He said quietly, locking his eyes with hers and seeing the surprise that flashed through them. "You would use it to induce a comma. There's a 50 chance that it will work. If it did it would take away the pain, and with rehab I would be able to use my leg again."

"House, no I can't let you do an experimental treatment like that. Do you have any idea how dangerous that could be? Besides if there's a 50 chance it will work that means there is also a 50 chance it won't work. What then? Are you willing to take that risk and then have it not work?"

A look of agitation crossed his face, and he stood and began to slowly pace the room. Cuddy noticed how he was still controlling the length of his stride and trying to put as little weight on his right leg as possible.

"I thought you said you wanted to help me?" he nearly shouted, frustration and anger pouring through his every action, "I've come up with a realistic option and once again you shove it back in my face. You can't sit there and tell me how much you care, and how much you want to help and then reject everything I come up with. I know what the risks are, and I know what could go wrong. If this works I gain the use of my leg back, if it doesn't I lose nothing. I don't see how this is a bad thing."

"House…"

"Look, you either want to help or you don't. You told me you were tired of offering your help, and you were tired of waiting for me to accept it. Well I'm tired of waiting for you to actually help. I'm not you're psyche experiment, and I'm not your pin cushion. I'm leaving I've had enough talking for one day. If you change your mind you know where to find me, and don't expect me to do this again."

House turned and headed out of Cuddy's office before she could reply. He knew that this would happen, some things never changed. No matter how many times he went through this scenario the results were always the same. Cuddy or Wilson would claim they wanted to help him, he would talk himself into believing it, and then they would mess with him like this. He couldn't, and wouldn't, deal with this anymore. He had told Cuddy what he wanted and if she really wanted to help him, she knew what to do. He would deal with this the way he always had, with more pills and isolation.

Back in her office, Cuddy was left sitting in shock. House had blown up very quickly. And her mind was still reeling at how fast he had gone from being rational to acting like a two year old. She was sure that it was because he had shown her a tiny glimpse of how vulnerable he was, and then he had realized he had given her too much information. _Men,_ she thought, _they're all just a bunch of children deep down._ She knew that it was too late this time to get him back, so she decided she would do what she always did, wait and watch. When things got worse, she would try again because no matter how many times she convinced herself that this was the last time, she knew it wasn't. She could never just leave him to self- destruct. She would always be there to pull him up for air when he was drowning, and hope that one day he would realize that she did really just want to help.

**I just want to say thanks again to those who reviewed. I greatly appreciate it. Still not sure where I want to go with this, or if I should go any farther. But anyways, tell me what you think and hope you enjoyed!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long getting posted, I have been occupied with mid terms at school so my spare time has been drastically reduced. I would like to thank ang catalonan for all of the help and suggestions for this chapter, hope you all enjoy.**

Wilson was standing in the lobby looking at a file when he looked up and saw House storming out of Cuddy's office. At least he would have been storming out if he was physically capable of doing so. He was leaning heavily onto his left side, trying to keep weight off his right leg as much as possible, and was limping more heavily than usual, but was practically slamming his cane into the floor with each step. If he tried to bash the floor with it any harder Wilson was afraid it would snap in two. His whole body was stiff with anger, but it was his facial expression and the way that his anger shone through his eyes, transforming them to an icy blue stare that would kill you on the spot that clued Wilson into the fact that whatever had just happened in Cuddy's office had not been pleasant. House didn't even look in Wilson's direction, his eyes stayed focused on the elevators and he nearly plowed over a middle aged lady and her small child. Because Wilson had a sense of self preservation, he decided it would be best to let House calm down and maybe take a few extra pills before he went to talk to him. But he had to know what had happened, so Wilson set down his file and made his way to Cuddy's office. She was still sitting in one of the arm chairs when Wilson quietly knocked on the door and poked his head in.

"Everything ok in here? I just saw House leave and he had steam coming out of his ears."

Cuddy looked up at Wilson, slightly surprised by the sudden intrusion. She had still been trying to absorb all that had happened.

"Yes everything's fine. House was just being his usual stubborn self."

"Ok, do you wanna talk about it? He's obviously upset you," said Wilson noticing that Cuddy was anxiously fiddling with a pen, twisting it around in her hands.

Cuddy followed his gaze and then noticing that she had been trying to strangle the pen, she gently set it on a nearby end table and motioned for Wilson to sit down on the opposing couch, which he did; she then let out a sigh and began to tell him what had happened. House may be afraid, and unwilling to talk about his issues but Cuddy needed to have someone to talk to.

"I was trying to help him, and as usual he was trying to pretend everything was fine. I wanted to help him find a better way to deal with his pain; it's been getting so bad lately. He thinks he's hiding it but I can see right through him. Did you know that he came to me yesterday afternoon asking for a morphine injection in his spine?"

Wilson looked at her in shock, he had suspected that House had taken something but he had no idea he would have resorted to such drastic measures. Well now he knew why House had suddenly been feeling better.

"And you gave it to him?" Wilson stated sadly. "That's pretty extreme even for him"

"No I didn't give it to him, I gave him a saline shot instead. I had talked with you earlier, after you gave him the MRI, and I was sure that it was mostly a psychological problem. I thought that if I could prove to him that it was all in his head he might be willing to listen. So I went to see him last night, to tell him what I had done and to tell him that he couldn't keep going on like this," she paused and her right hand came up to rub her temple, "he was in so much pain he could barely stand, and he told me that the saline hadn't worked, he knew what I had done and made it look like it had helped."

"It's ok Lisa," Wilson said softly, "You can't blame yourself for his pain. I would have done the exact same thing if he had come to me, if I'd have given him anything at all. This is not your fault."

"But it is," replied Cuddy, her frustration seeping through her words, "I did this to him. I was his physician; it was me that suggested cutting out half of his leg in the first place. I knew what he wanted, what his wishes were, but I let Stacy do it anyways. I just wanted to make his life better, I still do. But it doesn't matter who really is to blame, the fact is that every time I see him like this I can't help but blame myself. I just want to help make his life a little better, even if all that means is that he won't be alone."

Wilson stared at her shocked he had no idea she felt this way, and he could see that this line of the conversation was causing her to become increasingly upset. So he tried to change the subject slightly.

"His pain is not your fault, you did what any doctor would have done in your position. But that still doesn't answer why he went storming out of here breathing fire. What exactly did you two talk about?"

Cuddy took a deep calming breath, "Last night I told him that this was the last time I was offering my help. I'm so tired of him shoving it back in my face, telling me I'm just interested in helping this hospital and myself. I told him that he could either keep taking the pills and self destruct, or he could accept my help and trust me to do what is best for him. I convinced him to at least talk with me, and actually got him to without much of a fight at all. He started off pretty good but then he told me he couldn't get off the pills and when I asked him what he suggested as an alternative; he told me he wanted ketamine, I refused. Then all of a sudden he came undone and started getting defensive and sarcastic. He started yelling and saying that it had been a mistake to think I would help him then he left."

"That sounds typical, and rather juvenile of him."

"It wasn't juvenile, it was childish. He was acting his shoe size instead of his age."

"Well that's an interesting way of putting it. But I suppose it's true," Wilson leaned forward on the couch and ran a hand through his hair, "It's his way of coping with all of this. He doesn't want to deal with the realities of the world, so he tries to pretend they don't exist. And all of us have helped to shield him from the world."

"I don't see how, I mean I agree that he acts like a child but I don't see how I try to shield him from the world."

"Yes you do, think about it. You knew he was going to have trouble getting back to work after the infarction, so you gave him a job here. You created an environment for him away from the rest of the world where he doesn't have to deal with its realities. He comes to work, he generally does his job, and then he goes home. And even when he screws up you and me are always right there behind him to clean up the messes, legal or otherwise. He gets to play the mad scientist and we make sure, even if it is unintentional, that he never has to deal with the consequences. He hasn't had to grow up and face the world, we're always protecting him from it. That's why he acts like a child; we didn't even make him deal with what happened to him. So when one of us tries to force him to see reality, he blows up, he shouts, he hides behind his sarcasm, and he tries to convince us that he doesn't need anybody. But he does need us, he needs someone anyways especially you. Because you protect him the most, you act like a mother to him."

Cuddy stared at Wilson, disbelief coming across her face. She had never thought about her relationship with House that way before, and she wasn't sure that it entirely fit.

"That is so not true. I do not act like his mother."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Of course I'm sure." She said, but Wilson didn't think that she sounded so sure. She got up and started to slowly pace the room, thinking about what Wilson had just said to her.

"You don't sound so sure," he commented.

Cuddy threw her hands in the air then flopped back into the chair, "I don't know, maybe I'm not. But even if I am mothering him, what does that realization accomplish?"

"It gives you control over him. You said that you just wanted to make his life better, to save him from his pain right?"

"Yeah, and you're point is?"

"So what do parents do when their children don't do as they're told? They enforce their authority. Weather he realizes it or not, he sees you as his protector. You're the one who's always there to pick up the pieces and make the world right again, so you have that as leverage. Give him an ultimatum, tell him he has to open up to you and tell you what's going on, he has to allow you to help him or he can go work somewhere else."

"But that won't work, he knows that no matter what I won't let him go, his reputation means too much to this hospital. I can't just tell him I'm firing him, he won't believe it."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about though," exclaimed Wilson, "You're always there for him, if you show him that you're serious then he will open up to you. He's like peter pan, he doesn't want to grow up and have to deal with the world; he'd rather have you deal with it for him. If you show him what he'll have to deal with without you helping him every step of the way, he will do everything he can to make sure that doesn't happen. This relationship works for him, and no matter what he says or does he's just like the rest of us; he will choose the path that is the easiest for him."

Cuddy sighed and turned to gaze out the window, thinking about all that Wilson had said. It was a lot to absorb, and she didn't know if she was willing to do what Wilson was suggesting. It would be hard, but deep down she knew it was the only way that she would get him to listen.

"Alright fine, I guess it's worth a try. But that means I'm going to need you to be in on this too, he gets no more favors from either of us. He's going to get treated like any other employee here until he decides to accept my help. I'll need you to keep an eye on him for me; I don't trust him not to try something drastic and slightly illegal before he decides to cave. I'm going to restrict his Vicodin too, he will get a reasonable amount from now on and I know he will be in more pain."

"I'll keep any eye on him, make sure he doesn't jump off the roof or anything, but you should probably alert the pharmacy too. You know he'll try to get more pills there.'

Cuddy nodded, then stood and walked back to her desk. Wilson rose also and stood near the door.

"I'm going to go up and talk to him now," she said closing some files and stacking papers on the corner of her desk, "I'm assuming the steam will have all blown out by now, he should be at least somewhat reasonable by now. I brought him in this morning, but I'm assuming that he'll be too angry with me after this to let me take him home. Would you mind making sure he gets back to his apartment?"

"Sure," said Wilson, "I have a patient to go see now that should take me about another hour and a half, but then I'll make sure he gets home."

"Thanks," cuddy said heading towards the door.

She stepped off the elevator and slowly approached House's office. She could see him sitting in his chair behind his desk, staring out the window as he had been last night when she had come to talk to him. the only difference was last night she had been filled with sympathy towards him, tonight she was determined to have him see what was right in front of him. She wanted him to see that he was headed towards disaster. Cuddy paused at the door, bracing herself for the yelling she was sure would occur. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and entered.

"House, we need to talk," she said forcefully.

House turned his chair to face her. "Well, this appears to be a repeat of last night doesn't it? Not interested in the sales pitch this time though, you'll have to try it on someone else. Wilson's pretty gullible, you could go try…"

"I'm not here for the same reason as last night House," Cuddy said angrily, cutting him off. "I'm here to tell you what's going to happen, and you're going to listen."

House began to open his mouth to protest with another witty retort but Cuddy forged on before he had the chance to begin. She stood before him with her anger clearly showing through every part of her, and House decided it was best to let her continue without interruption for the moment.

"I'm tired of your attitude towards me, and Wilson too for that matter, every time we try to help. So this is what's going to happen; from now until you decide to come to me asking for help you will be treated like any other employee here. You will get no special treatment. That means that you will be expected to show up for work on time, you will be expected to complete your clinic hours. And that means you complete them, Cameron, Chase, and Foreman will not do them for you. _You_ will be expected to keep up with all of your paperwork and filing, you will not get Cameron to do it for you. You will accept consults and do the cases that I give you, no arguments. If you fail to comply with any one of these then I will fire you."

Cuddy stopped waiting for him to reply.

"Oh come on," he snapped, "This is ridiculous, you and I both know that you're not going to fire me. You enjoy tormenting me too much. And I told you already I don't want your help, it hasn't gotten me anywhere and it probably never will."

Cuddy smiled at him, but it was a smile of confidence and House became slightly worried now, knowing that there was more to this threat.

"I'm cutting back the amount of vicodin you get too. From now on you'll only get what I give you when I give it to you. And if you don't think I'll fire you, just try me House. You've had it pretty good here, I've only ever wanted to make your life easier for you. Even if that meant that if nothing else you had someone here to talk to when you needed it, but you keep pushing me away. You want everyone to see that you don't need anyone, we'll fine! Have it you're way. I won't give you the special attention that you usually get; now you're just a normal employee. That also means there will be no more free run of this hospital, you will follow and adhere to all hospital policies. No barging in on me in my office, no more sexual comments, and you will be polite to all of your patients because if I get ONE complaint, you will be fired, without a reference."

"You can't do this!" House snapped at her, slightly shocked at what she was doing.

"I can and I am, now hand me the rest of those pills," she said holding out her hand.

"No, they're mine go get your own!"

"I'm going to ask you once more and then you're gone," She said with as much authority as she could muster, hoping that he couldn't see how hard this was for her. How badly she just wanted to tell him that she was just kidding and that it was all a joke that they could laugh about later. But she knew that this was for the best, so she stood firm, with her hand outstretched waiting for him to dig out the bottle and hand it to her. She watched hesitation creep into his eyes then saw them soften as he decided to do as she said. House dug into his pocket and pulled out the orange pill bottle, then shoved it into her hand.

"This isn't going to work you know, I have friends in high places."

"If you mean Wilson, I've already told him what I'm doing, and tomorrow I will tell you're team too. The pharmacist is being warned by Wilson as we speak and I will let all the nurses know that you are to act and be treated like any other doctor in this hospital and if they see you doing otherwise they are to come to me immediately. And I really highly doubt your attitude over the past few years has gained you any friendships among them."

"Wow, I'm impressed, you've created a hospital version of the secret police, next thing you know there will be posters of you hanging in the hallways."

Cuddy opened the bottle and handed him two pills. "These are all you get until tomorrow when you come in at 9, not a minute later."

"Whoa, wait a minute. That's not enough to last me until tomorrow, that's more than twelve hours"

"You're right, but the date on this bottle says that you just got this yesterday, and it's already almost half gone. That means you've been taking more than you should have, I'm just evening out the balance. See you tomorrow House." With that Cuddy turned and marched out of his office before he had a chance to protest. Walking back to her office she could only hope that this would work, otherwise they were both going to be in trouble because she would be forced to fire him. And that was something she really did not want to have to do.


	5. Chapter 5

**Wow, this ended up being way longer than I had intended, but I was trying to avoid studying so I guess that means that I was successful. Anyways hope that you enjoy, sorry if I got some of the medical stuff wrong, I'm not in med school or anything. But if you let me know it will just improve my knowledge! So please send me your comments.**

Wilson came to take House home about an hour later; he was still sitting at his desk with a silent brooding look on his face.

"Are you ready to go? Cuddy said I should take you home."

House didn't answer; he just got up and put his jacket on before grabbing his cane and following Wilson out to his car. The two of them rode in silence the whole way, Wilson knew tonight wasn't the time to talk to House; he needed time to process what Cuddy had told him. So he dropped House off and told him that he would be there to pick him up at 8:30 tomorrow morning, and then he drove off before House had time to answer. House walked stiffly into the apartment, dreading the night ahead of him. He was glad now that he always kept a secret stash of pills at home, but still he had a lot to think about tonight and the stash wouldn't last forever. If he was going to get through this he would have to ration them and only use them when he absolutely needed to. He highly doubted that Cuddy was serious about firing him, but she had seemed pretty determined and he knew that leaving him with only the two pills for the whole night was her way of trying to show him that she was serious. He guessed that this would only last for a week or so, but it was still cruel, especially since he had just told her that his leg had been bothering him more than usual lately. He took his coat off and threw it onto the couch, then he hobbled over to his piano. He would need its welcome distraction to make it through the solitude of the night, especially with all the things running rampant through his mind now. He sat down on the bench and began to play, his fingers touched the keys and music flowed from them automatically, without thought. He lost himself in the soothing music, letting each note take him farther and farther away from his physical prison of pain. But the freedom didn't last too long before he was dragged back down by the chains of reality, aka that dam leg. Hot rods of pain seared up into his stomach, making him nauseous and the music stopped abruptly as his hands flew to his thigh and he gently massaged the angry mass of flesh. This was going to be an exceptionally long night. He waited for the pain to ebb away enough that he could stand without throwing up and then headed towards the bookshelf. He pulled out a small statue with a hollow back that shielded a bottle of pills and quickly opened it and hastily swallowed a few. He leaned back against the book shelf and slowly sank to the floor where he continued to slowly rub the cursed muscle until he felt the warmth of the pills spread through his body. Then suddenly overcome with exhaustion he allowed sleep to claim him, although he knew he would deeply regret it in the morning.

Cuddy stayed at the hospital late into the night, so late that she contemplated just staying there and sleeping on the couch in her office. She too was trying to distract herself from the events of the day, and by the time she finally decided to leave she was almost entirely caught up on her paper work. Her conscience was tormented by what she had done to House earlier. Caught up in the moment she had left him with only two pills to get through the night. Now she prayed that he had a stash at home. She had almost picked up the phone to check on him five times already. But she knew that if she called to apologize now then it would be all over, so she resigned herself to waiting until the morning to see what kind of damage she had done this time. She was beginning to doubt herself more and more. Maybe House had been right when he said she didn't really want to help, after all she had just set a plan in motion that would only cause him more pain. Wilson would tell her that in the long run it would be ok, that the ends justified the means, but she wasn't so sure. She cared for him deeply, although she didn't really understand why most days. Every time she saw him in pain, her stomach would clench with worry and compassion for him. And recently the thought was ever more present that there might be more than the deep sense of caring and appreciation for him. She had admitted to those feelings, the thought playing at the edges of her mind was that she might actually like him. Or perhaps even love him, although that thought was still an abstract concept that hadn't made it to her conscious thoughts yet. It was a thought that lingered in her subconscious and steadily made its way to realization with the passing of time. But right now her thoughts ran wild with innumerable scenarios of the condition she would find him in when she returned to work in the morning. Now that Wilson had put the thought into her head she realized that she did mother him. She was always trying to protect him, always trying to do what was best for him. Maybe that behavior stemmed from the fact that she had no children of her own, which was something she had always wanted. Perhaps she was trying to satisfy her need to be a mother by mothering House. The thought disturbed her somewhat. Not because she didn't care for House, but if Wilson had noticed how many others had? Did everyone but herself and House see the way they treated each other? They probably did, and that was why she had to force him to 'grow up'. She couldn't have that type of visible relationship with an employee; it could end up getting her into trouble. Perhaps if she wanted a child she should just have one. _But that is definitely not something I need to be thinking about tonight,_ she thought as she entered her house. Tonight she needed to prepare herself for what would happen tomorrow, because she knew if House managed to make it to work in one piece she would need to be strong to enforce what she had told him. and so unwilling to go to bed, Cuddy stat down on her couch and turned on the T.V. knowing that she would regret not sleeping in the morning.

The next morning, Wilson arrived at House's apartment at precisely 8:30. He knocked on the door but got no response, he didn't even hear the sound of movement behind the door. So he sighed and grabbed his key out of his pocket and entered the apartment ready for anything, with House there were uncountable reasons why he wouldn't answer the door. Today Wilson had narrowed the reasons down to two; he was either in too much pain to make it to the door, or he wanted to be difficult. Personally Wilson thought dealing with a House in pain was a much better option than dealing with him when he wanted to be obnoxious. He was generally more cooperative when he could barely move. As soon as he stepped into the apartment he saw House curled up around his thigh on the floor in front of the bookshelf. He held it in both hands and was slowly rocking back and forth, his breath coming in short gasps. He looked up at Wilson when he came around the corner. Wilson went into full caring mode, immediately regretting his earlier thoughts, and rushed to House's side.

"House! Are you ok? What happened?"

"It's not as bad as it looks," he said through clenched teeth, "I was too tired to get up last night and fell asleep on the floor. Not the best idea I've ever had. Anyways if you expect me to go to work and deal with the wicked witch of the hospital then you'll have to help me up."

"House, if you can't get up off the floor then it obviously is bad. And your right it wasn't the best idea you ever had, especially since today is probably the one day that you can't afford to even be late, let alone miss work."

Wilson helped his friend to his feet then stood back when House pushed him aside. He took two steps before the leg gave out and only avoided an unwanted rendezvous with the floor because Wilson's quick reflexes allowed him to catch his falling friend.

"Great, Cuddy's gonna have a field day with this. Help me over to the couch."

Wilson helped House maneuver over to the sofa and then eased him down into it.

"You stay there for a minuet while I go call Cuddy, you can barely walk there's no way she can expect you to work all day. And next time, House, don't sleep on the floor. You of all people should know better."

"No, I don't want you to call her. She said she was going to treat me like any other employee. What do you think she will say when you tell her I'm in so much pain I can't even get up off the floor on my own? She'll make me go through all sorts of embarrassing things, which I'd rather avoid if you don't mind. And before you say anything I know you're in on this with her. Just hand me those pills over there and give me 10 minuets, I don't want to give her the satisfaction of firing me just yet."

Wilson stared at House with mild annoyance etched across his face. "House…"

"I don't want to hear it Wilson, either you do what I say and help me or I get fired. But you're not calling her."

Wilson gave in, knowing House was exceptionally stubborn, and got the pills for him. He didn't even bother to ask where he'd gotten them from, the truth probably involved something illegal. House dry swallowed some of the pills and after five minuets got Wilson to help him to the bathroom so he could change and clean up a bit before they left for work. Wilson still had to help House out to the car, although he noticed that he was supporting less of his friend's weight than before. Once again they drove in silence, this time more due to the fact that House had found a good radio station and had turned it up as loud as he could get it to go. Wilson had to give apologetic looks to several other motorists on the way to the hospital as the car vibrated its way down the road.

They arrived with five minuets left to go before House was officially late. Wilson went to help him out of the car, but House motioned him out of the way.

"I need to go in there on my own, these walls have eyes now and I don't want the Gestapo reporting this to the great and powerful Cuddy." House said, getting out of the car with some difficulty. "Thanks though." He added as an after thought.

Wilson stayed close by as House made his way into the hospital and towards Cuddy's office, he looked very unsteady on his feet and the last thing he needed right now was to end up on the ground again. But House managed to make it all the way on his own and got into her office just as the clock turned to 9:00.

When he entered a wave of relief passed over Cuddy, but it was quickly replaced by worry. He looked bad, like he hadn't slept all night. He was pale and he was leaning heavily on his cane, holding it in a death grip._ Oh God,_ she thought, _what have I done? How can I find the strength to go through with this?_ But she would find the strength because in the end it was best for both of them. So she mustered her courage and handed him his pills. He took them with a shaking hand, the white hot lightning bolts of pain that had seared through his body earlier this morning had been reduced to a steady burning by now. But it still left him fighting with gravity to stay upright and not curl into a ball right there in her office.

"There are no new cases right now, so I expect you to be in the clinic this morning. You can come back at noon for more pills."

"So you're actually going through with this? Well then tell me how you expect me to do my job when you only give me two pills to last me the whole night?"

"I already told you why I did that, now get to work House. Or I will fire you."

Then she turned back to her paper work before her face gave everything away and hoped that he would just leave. "Yes master," he replied half heartedly as he left her office.

She was extremely relived that he had managed to make it into work today, but was very worried about how unsteady he looked on his feet.

As soon as House had exited her office, Wilson walked in. she looked up at him and allowed him to see all of the worry and fear she was feeling.

"Are you sure this is going to work? Because I don't know if I can put him through all of this without knowing that it will." She asked Wilson.

"It will, once things get uncomfortable enough for him, he'll give in. It will take some time though, you're just going to have to stick it through. But I'll be here for you, we'll all get through this together."

"Alright, how bad was he this morning? He looks like hell now and I can only assume that this was a phenomenal improvement from how you found him."

"He was pretty bad. He fell asleep on the floor last night after dipping into his secret stash, and then he couldn't get up this morning. Sleeping on the hard cold floor is most definitely not the best thing for a cripple. But don't worry, I already told him that. I had to help him around the apartment, but he wouldn't let me help him into the hospital. He's comparing you to a dictator you know?"

"Great, that's just what I needed." She said, hanging her head between her hands for a moment before continuing. "For once I'm glad he has the stash tough. Well I've sent him to the clinic for the morning, and I've already informed the staff down here that they're supposed to treat him as a normal doctor. Some of them looked pretty pleased when I told them that they needed to report to me if he stepped out of line. He's not going to have an easy day."

"This isn't meant to be easy, that's the point. But remember, you have to treat him like you would any other doctor. What would you do if I came in looking like that this morning?"

"I'd make sure you got checked out, make sure you were going to be ok and give you time off if you needed it. But I know what his problem is and I don't think giving him time off is exactly the best thing to do right now."

"Yes it is. Work is a distraction for him, he needs it to take his mind off other things. And with you doling out his pills now his stash at home will run out pretty quick and he'll need to come back. Like I said, it will become an inconvenience for him so he'll give you what you want."

"I don't know if I can send him home unsupervised. God knows what he'll try to relieve the pain."

She paused waiting to see if Wilson would respond but he just shrugged. "I'd give him until noon to get it together, then do something about it. But it's really up to you, I've got to get to work though. If you need me for anything just call."

She nodded and watched Wilson's retreating back, hoping the answers she sought would somehow magically appear there. But they didn't so she went back to work all the while dreading what she might be forced to do at noon.

Meanwhile House was dealing with patient after patient in the clinic. And the day was quickly tuning out to be the day from hell. He was forced to deal with the incompetent fools that came into the clinic with runny noses, but the worst part was that he couldn't snark at them. On a day when he desperately wanted to, he couldn't. The nurses were watching him like a hawk, making sure he treated everyone courteously. Nurse Brenda was even toying with him.

"My, my, Dr. House. You don't look so good this morning." She had said mockingly, "Is there anything I can help you with or should I go and inform Dr. Cuddy that you should take some time off?"

He had forced a somewhat polite smile onto his face and told her in a blunt tone that he appreciated her concern but was just fine thanks. But it was enough for him to get the hint, if he couldn't pull himself together, and soon, they would tell Cuddy. And then God only knew what she would decide to make him do. But he wasn't ready to give in yet, not by a long shot. He was sure that she would cave way before he did. She was after all a big softy way deep down. Not as naïve as Cameron, but she definitely wouldn't be able to stand watching him suffer for that long. But it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to act like he was fine. _Note to self,_ he thought_, sleeping on wood floors is definitely a situation that must be avoided at all costs in the future. And if I manage to get through this, so is pissing off Cuddy._ At the moment, House was with a patient who was busy telling him how he had skipped out of work to tell him about his sore throat, runny nose, and various aches and pains. It took every once of self control House had to stop himself from snapping at the man, any idiot could diagnose a cold from those symptoms. He looked up at the clock; it was only ten, two more hours of this hell. He couldn't do it, it just wasn't going to happen today. The pain that he had reduced to a burn was quickly escalating to the white hot lightning bolts again, and he could feel nausea slowly creeping into his stomach. It was beginning to make the room spin as well and he knew that if he went back out of the exam room he would end up on his ass, which would cause a scene, which was something he really wanted to avoid. He began to rub the thigh, and forcefully told his stomach to hold on to its contents. Any other day he would have taken more pills and then spend the day locked up in his office, comfortably seated in his recliner with his leg elevated with pillows. But now he didn't even have the pills, and there was no way he could make it to his office right now. He needed a way out of this and he needed it now before the nausea caused him to do something humiliating. So he turned to the man sitting on the exam table, who was still ranting on about his various aches. House looked him in the eye and the man went silent, no doubt that he could see, even if he was an idiot, that his doctor was in a lot of pain and about two minuets away from passing out. This was exactly what House wanted him to see, he may be in excruciating pain but he was still an expert at manipulating people. He needed to keep this guy here long enough to have Wilson answer his page so those damned nurses didn't report this to Cuddy right away. The best way to do that was to make the guy feel sorry for him. So he played the cripple card, occasionally it came in very handy.

"It's clear from you symptoms that you have a cold. Its nothing serious, just go home and rest, drink lots of fluids and you'll be fine," said House politely, but making sure his words came out forced.

The man picked up on it and right on cue asked, "Hey are you al right doctor? You don't look so good."

House looked up at the man while fumbling with his pager in his pocket.

"Oh, sorry to alarm you, you see I have a bum leg, it acts up every now and then. I'll be fine though. I assume you have to go back to work after this right?"

The man didn't look entirely convinced that House was actually alright, House hoped that he had been convincing enough. This being polite to clinic patients was extremely difficult, especially when he was in so much pain, and he had to work extremely hard to keep his insults to himself.

"Yeah, I do," said the patient, "I can't afford to take anymore sick days this month, why?"

"I think I can help you with that, you see I could use a few minuets break myself before I head back out there. So here's the deal, I'll give you my game boy and you can play that for a few minuets while I sit here and evaluate your response to visual stimulus, ok. It's a win/win situation, the way I see it, what do you say?" said House, offering the man the game boy.

"Sure, why not," said the man grabbing the toy from House and turning it on.

House settled back on the stool and waited for Wilson to show up. He knew that he was in on Cuddy's diabolical plot to make him share his feelings with the world, but hopefully Wilson would feel sorry enough for him that he would cut him some slack today. It was highly doubtful but House knew it was his last hope at avoiding an ugly situation. He grabbed his thigh with both hands as he felt another wave of violent pain pass through the damaged muscle. _Wilson better get here quick,_ he thought. He could feel the muscles start to clench and new that a full out spasm was quickly on its way unless he did something satisfy the demands of his damned leg soon. He was so tired of living his life based on what that stupid appendage told him he could and couldn't do. He would give almost anything for just five minuets of freedom, but that was never going to happen, so it was pointless to wish for it. He leaned back against the wall and tried to will his body to cooperate with his demands. He wasn't having much success, his leg was on fire. And even the continuous massaging was having little effect to dull the pain. He felt the muscles begin to tighten even more, a sure warning that they were about to go into spasm. The pain increased more, if that was possible, and his breath started coming in short rapid breaths. His palms were getting sweaty and he let out a groan as a new wave of pain radiated up into his stomach. His leg was sending lightning bolts of searing white hot pain through his body again, even worse than it had been this morning. His patient picked up on his distress and the beeping of the game boy stopped temporarily.

"Hey, are you sure you're alright? I could go get some help if you want?"

"No, that's ok," gasped House, "Just play the damned game, I'll be fine."

"Ok, whatever you say," said the patient, although he was quickly becoming very concerned for the crippled doctor, he was shaking and covered in sweat, maybe he should go and get help. He had never seen anyone in that much pain before, it must have been something really bad that happened to his leg to be causing this. But for the moment he obeyed the doctor's wishes and returned to playing the game. This was when Wilson decided to show up. He knocked on the door and then slowly entered.

"Hey, House you said you needed a consul…" Wilson's voice trailed off as he took in the scene in the room. House's patient was sitting on the exam table playing a game boy, and House was sitting on the stool near the window clutching his leg so hard that his hands were white. He was sweating and had a grimace on his face; he didn't even open his eyes when Wilson walked into the room. Wilson turned back to the patient.

"How long have you been in here?"

"About twenty minuets, is he going to be ok? He's been getting a lot worse." Said the patient, getting up off the table and moving towards the door. House still gave no indication that he was aware of what was going on around him.

"I don't know," said Wilson, "What's wrong with you?"

"I have a cold, he already told me what to do."

"Ok, well you should really go home then, go get some rest. I'll take care of him now, thanks for staying with him."

The man nodded and quickly left the room, glad to be out of there. Wilson quickly went to House's side and placed both hands on his shoulders. He could feel House shaking under his grasp, this was not good.

"House, can you hear me?" he gave him a gentle shake and those blue eyes flew open. They were filled with pain and House wasn't even trying to hide that from Wilson now, that fact alone told Wilson just how bad it really was. House still hadn't answered him though so he called out to him again.

"House, answer me, can you hear me?"

"Yeah," gasped house, squinting his eyes shut as another wave of pain passed through him. He let out a loud groan, still clutching the leg in a death grip.

"Ok, you just stay there, I'm going to go get some help. Hang in there House, I'll be back," Wilson turned and went to the door of the exam room and called out, "Nurse, could you get me a chair in here?"

As he turned to head back to House the muscle went into spasm. House leaned forward and jerked the leg up at the same time, throwing himself off balance on the stool and causing himself to crash to the floor. Every muscle in his body tensed as he wrapped himself around the leg. Wilson acted quickly, knowing what he needed to do. The nurse arrived with the wheelchair while Wilson administered a shot of morphine to House, a few moments later House felt his muscles relax as the drug worked its way through his body. Entirely devoid of all energy now, House slumped on the floor. He opened his eyes briefly and turned his head to look at Wilson.

"Thanks," he muttered softly before he lost consciousness and drifted of into peaceful blackness.

Wilson turned to the nurse, "Help me get him in the chair, then take him upstairs. I'll go let Dr. Cuddy know."

The nurse nodded and together they lifted House into the chair.

Cuddy was already exiting her office when the nurse pushed House's now peaceful form put of the exam room, nurse Brenda had already informed her of what had happened. Cuddy stared in horror as House was wheeled past her.

_Oh my god,_ she thought,_ this is all my fault, I did this to him. _

She quickly followed him out of the clinic, the least she could do now was to see that he was properly taken care of.


	6. Chapter 6

Wilson found Cuddy sitting at House's bedside later that day; she was just sitting there staring blankly at him, lost in her own thoughts. House had been taken up to a room at the far end of the hall, as far away from curious eyes as Cuddy could manage. Wilson knew she felt guilty for contributing for his current condition so she had gotten him a private room and had bypassed admitting him for the moment; he was even still in his clothes. Wilson sighed; he knew that this was hard for Cuddy. Despite how she might act towards House Wilson knew that she cared deeply for him and that it hurt her just as much as it hurt House to see him this way. But if they were going to get through this then Cuddy would need some help from him, so he pulled the sliding glass door open and entered the room. Cuddy turned to look at him as he entered.

"How is he?" asked Wilson softly.

"He's still out, but I think he'll be fine, we won't really know how much pain he's in until he wakes up though. Was it really that bad James, the nurses told me what happened? They said it was the worst they'd ever seen him."

"It was bad, not the worst I've seen him though."

Cuddy leaned forward in her chair and put her face in her hands. "But I did this to him this time, there should be no reason for him to be in that much pain. I could have prevented this from happening, I was so stupid. I only gave him a few pills to get through the whole night, I was angry with him and I should have known better. You'll have to tell me what this is supposed to accomplish again Wilson, because I don't see how this is supposed to make his life any better? So far all this has accomplished is to make his pain worse. And I don't know if I can do this if he's going to be in this much pain."

"Well for starters this is really hard for you because you're trying to be too many things at once. You can't be his boss, his doctor, and his friend. It just won't work that way. You're going to have to pick one, and unfortunately now he needs you to be his boss. Leave the other two to me. And it will work, he wont open up to you until you make it uncomfortable for him not to. He's stubborn though, it will take some time but it will work."

"So you get the easy jobs?" she asked looking up at Wilson, "I don't even know where to go from here. What am I supposed to do when he wakes up? I can't just send him back to work and pretend this never happened, but I can't just leave him and have him continue to be in pain like this."

"Like I told you earlier, he's acting like a child right now. He's testing the limits of your authority, so you have to give him the boundaries. If he wants to act like a child then treat him like one, eventually he will realize that you are in charge and he will have to give you what you want."

Cuddy let out an exasperated sigh and then rose out of the chair next to House's bed and headed over to the window. She stared out of it for a few minuets, the rain clouds that had been persistent all week were slowly starting to clear and the sun was beginning to shine through. She silently wished that her problems would just disappear with those clouds and the answers would come shining through, but she knew that wasn't going to happen. She needed to work through this no matter how hard it got. Cuddy knew that it would be hard for her, as this mornings events had shown her she was going to be plagued by her guilt over what she was doing to him. But deep down she knew that this was what was best for him, he couldn't keep on living with such large amounts of pain and because she felt guilty about putting him in this position in the first place, she was going to help him get through this. She turned back to Wilson.

"I've already given him the boundaries, I told him he had to open up to me and start trusting me or he would get treated like any other doctor in this hospital."

"Exactly," exclaimed Wilson, looking over to make sure House was still sleeping when he realized how loud his statement had been. His friend remained asleep so he continued on quieter, "What would you do if this was any other doctor, if it was me?" it was a rhetorical question and Wilson expected no answer, so Cuddy gave him none and he continued on.

"You'd admit me, make sure you found out why there had been breakthrough pain and try to find a way of preventing it from happening again, right?"

"Yes," she said, "but I already know what caused this. I didn't give him enough pills to get through the night, and the nurses told me he fell asleep on the floor last night, not to mention the gaping whole in his thigh."

"Ok, so you know the cause and you know that at the moment there isn't really anything else you can do about it. So you make him stay here and rest for a day or so then give him some extra pills he should be fine. That's what you'd do for anything else, make him stay here overnight to make sure that it won't happen again and that he will actually be alright then send him home for a few days to rest. You'll probably have to send someone over to his place to make sure he's alright, and that he actually stays there. Unless of course he's decided that he's ready to give you what you want, then you can back off."

Cuddy nodded sadly, unsure how it had gotten to this point "He's not going to be happy when he wakes up, I guess that's you're point though. This better work because if it doesn't I don't know that I will be able to live with myself."

"I know you won't," said Wilson, "you care about him too much, and more than just as an employee, you care about him the way that you would care for a family member, that's another reason why this is so hard for you. But this will work; you just have to be firm with him. If you back down now you'll only be showing him that he doesn't have to take you seriously, that he can do whatever he wants and that he doesn't have to grow up and face the world like the rest of us. But I'll be here for both of you; we'll get through this together."

Cuddy stared at Wilson, taking in everything that he was saying, and then she nodded slowly and began to walk towards the door. She stopped as she reached it and turned back to face Wilson.

"I guess I should get a nurse in here to properly admit him then. Then I'm going back down to my office, I don't want to be here when he wakes up and realizes what has happened. You'll let me know when he is awake and calmed down enough for me to come and talk to him won't you?"

Wilson nodded, "You should probably move him to a regular room too, make sure he's not so isolated. I know it's mean but it will make him more uncomfortable, he does value privacy. And I wouldn't keep this from his team either, if they ask that is."

Cuddy nodded miserably before she opened the door and exited the room, giving House's sleeping form one last look before she turned and walked away down the hall. She hoped that he would see reason and talk to her before she had to do something drastic like fire him. But this was House after all, and if there was one thing you could count on for sure it was that he would be difficult and stubborn. Wilson went to follow Cuddy out of the room, but before he did he stopped next to House's bed and looked down at his sleeping form. _Why do you always have to make things so hard on yourself House? _Wilson silently asked his friend. _If you could just take down those walls you've put up around you you'd see that we just want to help you._ Wilson stood there for a few more moments, then turned and exited the room. house always had to do things the hard way, that was just who he was, and Wilson would be there for both him and Cuddy no matter how hard he made it for them.

Three hours later, House began to slowly regain consciousness. His mind was foggy and it took a lot of effort to drag himself out of the folds of darkness. The first thing he was aware of was a beeping noise off to his left, it was extremely annoying but his mind couldn't yet determine what it was. He tried to sink back into the comforting abyss of darkness, but the beeping noise grabbed at his consciousness and refused to let him. So he gave up and tried to clear the cobwebs from his brain as he struggled to open his eyes. When he finally succeeded he discovered that he was lying in a hospital bed, and that annoying beeping was still there but he was still unable to determine what exactly it was. The next thing that he was aware of was that he was in considerably less pain than he had been earlier, his leg still burned but it was no longer shooting white hot bolts of pain throughout his body. _Cuddy must have given me the good drugs,_ he thought as he tried to ease himself up into a sitting position, _that woman's guilt will be her undoing one of these days._ His leg protested the movement, though not as loudly as it had earlier, and House massaged it gently while he looked around the room for his cane. It was nowhere to be found, Wilson had probably made sure it was out of his reach so that he couldn't just leave, which is what he would have done if he'd had the opportunity. It was then that he noticed that he was wearing a hospital gown and was sporting an admittance band on his right wrist. He also noticed that he had been hooked up to an IV drip and heart monitor, which was the source of that annoying beeping sound. Anger flared up inside him as he realized what all of this meant, Cuddy was still going through with her threat and was treating him as she would any other patient. He had to admit that she was being annoyingly persistent this time with her threat, and he had suspicions that she was getting help from Wilson. House began to look around the room for his clothes, although he knew that they wouldn't be there. He wanted to get out of here, but was quickly realizing that that wasn't going to happen; he could barely walk this morning so there was no way he was going to get out of the hospital without his cane. And besides that, he was sure by now the whole hospital had heard about what was going on between him and Cuddy and there was no way they were going to let him just walk out. This was one of the few times he regretted being so mean to the rest of the staff, but that regret only lasted for a few moments. House looked out of his hospital room into the hallway; he noticed that Cuddy had placed him in a room just opposite from the nurse's station. _Just great, _thought House as he began to unhook the monitors and IV drip, _I don't even get any privacy. She might as well have put me in her damn office. _He had no sooner finished disconnecting himself when he looked up and noticed one of the nurses staring at him. _Shit, _he thought. The nurse picked up the phone and at the station and made a phone call, then she made her way across the hall and walked into his room.

"Dr. House, it's good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

He scowled back at her knowing that he was stuck now, but at the moment he didn't care how rude he was to her.

"Cut the caring nurse crap, where's my cane and my clothes? I want to get out of here."

The nurse smiled at him, a hint of satisfaction and pleasure shining in her eyes. She was finally able to get back at House for all of the times he had pushed her off to the side and been rude to her.

"Sorry Dr. House," she replied unable to keep her happiness out of her voice, "But you won't be going anywhere until Dr. Cuddy authorizes it. Oh and I see you've disconnected your self, here let me fix that for you."

"Get the hell away from me," House exclaimed, trying to pull away from her, the sudden movement cause his leg to protest loudly. It was still weak after the earlier spasm in the clinic and was not so quietly telling House that it was not up to moving at all at the present moment. He gripped the treacherous thigh with both hands trying to convince it that it didn't need to spasm again, that was the last thing he needed right now. Using this opportunity, the nurse moved in and began to reattach his IV. House knew that there was really nothing he could do about it, and sudden movements would only aggravate his thigh and then she would get the satisfaction of seeing him writhing in pain as well as being helpless. So he shot the nurse a look filled with hatred and venom instead. If looks could have killed the nurse would have been dead, and she knew it too but she was thoroughly enjoying the fact that she now had power over House and there was nothing that he could do about it. She finished reattaching him and then told him to relax until Cuddy arrived. House continued to stare hatefully at her as she turned and walked out of the room and back to her station. When she got there she continued to watch him diligently, and he continued to stare daggers at her. When Cuddy finally did arrive she found the two locked in a staring match and noticed that the young nurse was having trouble trying to conceal her satisfaction at how helpless House was. In fact throughout the day Cuddy had gotten a continual stream of doctors and other employees stopping by her office and congratulating her on having finally stood up to House. He had pissed off a lot of people over the years and they all thought that he was getting what he deserved. Cuddy had given up trying to explain to them that she was only doing this to help him; no one understood that, they thought that she had finally tired of his arrogant attitude and was cracking down on discipline with him. She knew he was going to be as angry as a raging bull with her right now, but she had to do this to achieve her goal. So she stopped at the nurse's station and asked for a report before she went in to see House. More or less she needed the extra time to put on her game face, she had wanted Wilson to come up and talk to him first but he was busy with a patient so she would have to face House's full wrath on her own. So she got her report from the nurse, took a deep breath and turned to walk into House's room. House was still starting intently at the nurse and didn't look at cuddy when she entered.

"How are you feeling, House?" asked Cuddy tentatively.

"What the hell do you think?" snapped House, "Why am I even here. Why bother wasting you're time? If you're just trying to embarrass and humiliate me then congratulations, mission accomplished. I'm tired of all this crap about wanting to help me. If you want to fire me then do it, otherwise I want to get out of here now. And don't try telling me that I have to stay here."

"Incase you didn't know I can request that you get a psych referral before I release you, and I'm pretty sure that you've sufficiently pissed off enough doctors that I could have them declare you unable to make that kind of decision. So I suggest you stop trying to bully me around, because I've had just about enough of you so just try it."

House starred at her for a moment, piercing into her with those razor sharp blue eyes. She just starred back at him until he dropped his gaze grumpily to his lap. She accepted his slight submission and continued on.

"You had a pretty bad muscle spasm in your leg earlier this morning, Dr. Wilson informed me of your choice of sleeping arrangements last night, so I've decided to forgo any tests for the moment. However you will stay here until I am satisfied that there will not be a repeat episode. Then you will be taken home where you will remain for the remainder of the week."

At this house looked up at her and began to protest, but she held up a hand to stop him and continued on before he had a chance to begin.

"And, because I don't trust you, I will be sending someone over to your place every day to check on you. And be assured that it won't always be Wilson, unless of course you have decided that you're ready to talk."

House didn't answer; he was trying to burn holes into the wall behind Cuddy. She noticed that he was gently massaging his thigh under the blankets again too, but chose not to make an issue out of it for the moment.

"House, I need an answer," she said trying to sound impatient and angry at the same time.

"Whatever, its not like you care about what I think anyways," was his reply.

"How's the leg doing? Is it bothering you again?" Cuddy didn't add that it wasn't like him to give up on an argument so easily.

"No, it's fine; just leave me the hell alone."

She starred at him, he was visibly tiring now and she could tell that despite what he was telling her the leg was bothering him again. But he obviously wasn't ready to talk with her so there wasn't much she could do about it.

"If that's the way you want it House that's fine with me. Just remember that you're staying here until I decide otherwise, and I don't care if that ends up being a week of a month."

He didn't reply, she could tell that he was extremely angry and resentful towards her so she just left the room. She stopped by the nurses' station again to tell them to keep a close eye on House and to let her or Wilson now if he was causing any problems. She was slightly concerned that he hadn't fought with her much, but he had had a very tiring day. She would let it pass for now. Cuddy headed back down to her office satisfied that House had sufficient supervision and tried unsuccessfully to do her work for the rest of the afternoon. She was just about to go home for the evening when she got a page from Wilson, **House room ASAP,** was all it read. So with a feeling of dread Cuddy quickly headed upstairs to his room to see what the problem was this time.

**Sorry about the cliff hanger but I couldn't resist. I know its mean but you'll have to read the next chapter to find out what happens, I'll try to post it quick. Please R&R, and once again I apologize if I got any of the medical stuff wrong. I'm doing a lot of guesstimating because I just don't have the time to do research, therefore feel free to correct me if i get something wrong.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Ok, here's the next chapter. I hope I didn't make you wait too much. Thanks so much to all you who sent me reviews, they are the highlight of my day. Just to avoid some confusion this goes back a little bit too just before Cuddy received the page to explain why. Anyways hope you enjoy!**

After Cuddy left his room, House turned on the television in his room in an attempt to block out the pain that had flared up in his leg again. He found some stupid show and was asleep before he knew it, tired by the events of the day.

It was later in the afternoon when he woke. He didn't open his eyes right away, he could feel someone staring at him and he had a pretty good feeling it was Wilson.

"Stop starring at me and get a life, don't you think your wife is more deserving of your attention? Or do you just enjoy staring at me while I pretend to sleep?" House asked opening his eyes and finding that Wilson was indeed sitting there starring at him. He looked slightly startled at House's voice, but he quickly recovered.

"It's six o'clock; I'm supposed to be done for the day. I thought I'd stop by and see how you were doing before I went home. And for your information, I'm not really on speaking terms with Julie right now, not that it's really any of your business."

"Then why did you tell me?"

"Because you would have harassed me until I did, I've learned it's just easier to tell you all the juicy little details from the start, you always find out anyways. Besides that I thought that being my friend you might actually care. But on to the next topic, how are you feeling?"

"Just great, I'm being kept here against my will, under threat of a psych evaluation until the wicked witch of the west deems it ok for me to go home. Not to mention that but everyone else I've ever pissed of in this hospital, which is practically everyone, has decided that now is the proper time to torment me. So unless you're here to tell me that Cuddy has decided to give up this stupid plan of hers then you can leave too."

Wilson shook his head, amazed at how stubborn House could be.

"Oh come on House, stop being a jack ass. What are you gaining from this? You're not proving anything to anyone, other that you can be the most obstinate and stubborn person alive. Would it be so hard to just accept someone's help? That's all she wants to do, you know, do you have any idea how much she really cares about you and how hard you're making this for her?"

House glowered back at Wilson, then made an attempt to avoid his questions.

"I haven't been to the bathroom for a while, since you've taken and hidden my cane you can help me over there."

Wilson looked over at House, a small look of amusement passing over his face.

"Don't think so," he replied, "Cuddy told the nurses she didn't want you moving around a lot. So seeing as you've been so nice to them lately they decided to take it upon themselves to insert a catheter while you were asleep. In the future you might try not pissing off the nurses."

House starred up at Wilson, anger welling up inside him. He was really beginning to get tired of everybody deciding that they should run his life for him. Who the hell did they all think they were that they could take control of his life like this? He'd had about enough, but he was not going to give into Cuddy, especially not after this. All of her eloquent speeches about wanting to help him and all she seemed to be doing was finding ways to torture him. Wilson was in on it too, and he was tired of them plotting to make his life better behind his back. Who were they to decide that? Maybe he was happy with his life just the way it was. He turned back to Wilson and allowed his anger to show through his expression, and to come through his words.

"What is it with you people? Why is it that everyone thinks that they should try to help me? I don't want your damn help and I sure as hell don't want your pity. And you know what, I've about had enough of this. If this is what I'm gonna have to go through every time someone decides to 'help' me then I don't want your help. And I don't want to stay here. I'm leaving right now; you can either help me or get out of here and go rat me out to Cuddy. You seem to be her conspiratorial companion."

House through off his blankets and once again began to disconnect himself from the machines he was hooked up to.

"What are you doing, you can't leave?" exclaimed Wilson, rising from his chair.

"Watch me," stated House.

Wilson knew House wouldn't make it out of the room let alone back to his apartment; for starters Wilson had driven him in to work that day. So he quickly paged Cuddy then hit the help button at the top of the bed and reached forward to try and hold House down on the bed until help arrived.

"Get your hands off of me." House yelled at Wilson.

"Tell you what, you lay back down and I'll be glad to. You don't even have a way of getting back to your apartment. There's no way your getting out of here right now, so lay back down before I have to do something that you won't like."

House continued to struggle against Wilson's restraint, but Wilson only pushed down harder.

"Get off of me," House screamed, punctuating every word. But Wilson continued to push against him, so House reached over to the night stand where his hand located a glass filled with water. He grabbed it, then threw the water up into Wilson's face. Wilson released his grip just as two nurses entered the room. They saw Wilson stumble back wiping out water from his eyes. Then they noticed that House was close to attempting to get off the bed. They rushed over to him and tried to push him back down onto the bed. Wilson recovered and went back over to House, but House quickly tried to land a closed fist on Wilson's face. That was the moment that Cuddy chose to arrive.

"What's going on in here?" she demanded, seeing the two nurses struggling to hold down House. It didn't look like an easy task; House was putting up a valiant fight.

Wilson looked over to her and gave her a short explanation.

"He woke up and found out about the catheter the nurses put in place. Then he decided to leave, I tried to hold him down but he threw water at me and then tried to punch me out. I think we need to sedate him."

Before Cuddy could reply their attention was directed back to House as he let out a small scream of pain and gave up his fight with the two nurses to fold over his thigh. The two nurses let him go, shocked by what was happening and it took Wilson a minute to realize what was happening. House was having another leg spasm, that made two in one day. The physical strain from fighting with the nurses must have been too much for his weakened muscles. Wilson needed to get this under control immediately.

"We need to sedate him," he shouted at the two nurses.

Cuddy was at House's side immediately with a syringe, giving orders to the two bewildered nurses. House was doubled over his leg and sweat had started to break out on his forehead, he was visibly shaking.

"I need you to try and move him so I can get to his other thigh," Cuddy told tem moving to House's left side so she could administer the syringe of diazepam into his good thigh. House had already been successful in disconnecting his IV line, so she needed to administer it directly into the muscle. Wilson moved forward to help the nurses pull House out of his curled position.

"House, you need to relax a bit for me, I need you to lay flat can you do that for me?"

"Go to hell," he gasped, but he did make an attempt to do as Wilson had asked.

House felt Wilson gently push his shoulders back onto the bed; he closed his eyes as his leg sent more pain shooting through his body. This was turning out to be a really bad day, he definitely had to rethink his decision making processes when it came to sleeping arrangements. If he hadn't been stupid enough to fall asleep on the floor he wouldn't be here right now, he'd be at home probably playing on his piano. Instead his damned leg was giving Cuddy more control over him than he ever wanted her to have. He began to wonder if his job was really worth all of this trouble. He felt a small prick on his left thigh, then felt the drug spread through his body and relax his angry muscles, his breathing evened out and he began to feel the blessed darkness pulling at his consciousness for the second time that day.

As Wilson felt House relax and fall back into the bed he relaxed his hold on him. Standing up straight he looked over to Cuddy and saw that she had tears rolling down her cheeks. She looked at Wilson for a moment before turning and quickly exiting the room. Wilson turned back to the two nurses.

"Can you make sure this room gets put back together, and make sure Dr. House is comfortable. I'm going to make sure Dr. Cuddy is alright."

The two nurses nodded and began to clean up the mess in the room as Wilson followed Cuddy out into the hall way.

"Are you ok, Lisa?" he asked, stepping out of the room and sliding the door closed.

"I don't know," she replied, wiping tears from her eyes, "I can't stand to see him in pain like that. I think I'll be fine though, I just need some time alone right now. I think I should go home."

Wilson sighed, running a hand through his hair. Between dealing with House who wanted to push everyone away, and Cuddy who seemed determined to blame herself for everything bad that happened to him, Wilson was surprised he wasn't suicidal yet. He was going to need a psychiatrist when this was over. But right now he had to focus on calming Cuddy down; she was in no state to be driving home right now.

"I don't think that's the best idea. You should probably go take a few minutes to calm down again, why don't you go down to your office for a bit? I'll make sure everything's settled up here then come down to check on you. This has been a stressful day on all of us."

"Alright fine," she agreed.

There was one more thing Wilson wanted to discuss with her before she left though. This plan of attack obviously wasn't working with House. All they had succeeded in doing so far was to piss him off and cause him more pain. If they were going to get him to cooperate they were going to have to give in to him a little bit. So Wilson chose his next words carefully, knowing that Cuddy wasn't in the best emotional state right now.

"There's one more thing. I think we have to change our plans a little bit. What he really needs is to rest. Keeping him here is only stressing him out; I think that you should let him go home tomorrow. At least that way he might not try to escape every time he wakes up, and he'll have a little more privacy too," Wilson paused trying to choose his next words even more carefully, "But I do think it would be a good idea to restrain him before he wakes up, otherwise he will just try to leave again and we'll get a repeat of what just happened. And I'm pretty sure that none of us want that."

Cuddy looked back at Wilson with alarm clearly showing on her face.

"Do you really think that's necessary, wont that just piss him off more?"

"Probably, but would you rather have him go through another muscle spasm?"

Cuddy thought about that for a moment, then her shoulders slumped and she shook her head. Wilson could tell that this whole situation was mentally and emotionally taxing on her.

"No," she answered, "but I don't know if that's the best idea. Besides, according to this master plan isn't letting him go home giving in to him."

"A little I suppose, but if you don't give him a little bit of what he wants then you're not going to get anything out of him. Besides that, you'll have to work with him after this is all over. You don't want to completely alienate him."

She nodded, and then began to head towards the elevators; Wilson followed her and waited with her until the elevator arrived.

"Fine, do what you think is necessary," she said quietly, looking over at him. Tears were welling up in her eyes again, "But I definitely can't deal with anymore of this today, you can arrange to have him sent back to his apartment tomorrow morning. Tell him I'll stop by to see him once he's been settled in. I'll be in my office, which is probably a good thing I don't think I'd be able to sleep tonight if I my life depended on it. See you tomorrow."

With that she stepped onto the elevator and pushed the button to head down to the main floor.

"Goodnight, Lisa," Wilson called after her as the doors closed. Then he let out a sigh, ran his hand through his hair again and headed back to House's room to make sure everything was going smoothly.


End file.
